


Just Like Daylight Savings Time

by MystxMomo



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Except it's all the ones where they fuck, M/M, tumblr drabble collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24238951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystxMomo/pseuds/MystxMomo
Summary: Komaeda and Hinata fuck and it happens time and time again because people ask for it.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 2
Kudos: 126





	Just Like Daylight Savings Time

**Author's Note:**

> Kinks are before each prompt.

_**Komaeda/Hinata // Liars disease** _

Komaeda’s hospital robe slides down his arms, the robe loosening further with each rock and sloppy, uncertain grab. 

“No, no, no. It’s too much Hinata-kun. You’re going too hard-”

The words are disconcerting, but the way that Komaeda’s fingers dig into his hair and force him closer is not. His mind attempts a half hearted flip of the words ( _”Yes, yes, yes. More, Harder,”_ ) but... It’s not like it mattered. He already had his dick instead of Komaeda, so that had to count for something.

(“You want this,” When Hinata had noted it, it was more to himself then Komaeda. 

“I _don’t_ -” Komaeda looks a little dazed as he insists it, grips harder at his shirt, “I’ve never wanted this. I hate when you touch me, Hinata-kun. You’re so cold, and disgusting, and when you look at me I want to vomit! I would never imagine wanting to do this with you! You’re the _worst_ ,” Komaeda looks ready to sob, he’s so frustrated. 

It’s funny, he thinks. The more Komaeda talks, the funnier this becomes. Hinata doesn’t laugh at it, exactly, but he does tip his head down as he sighs in some form of resignation. Not even at Komaeda so much as the bullshit situation he’s once again found himself drawn into. He touches their foreheads together. “Alright. Thats enough, I get it, I get-” And then they were kissing, and it didn’t matter what Komaeda was saying.)

He has Komaeda at his hips. It’s easy to feel the way the other trembles and shakes in some feverish amount of desperation.

“Calm down,” He says, but it’s half hearted. It feels less like a coax and more like a courtesy. His fingers draw the ends of gown apart in it’s entirety

“I am calm!” Komaeda chimes to him. His face is red, and a bit of hair sticks to his skin from the sweat, and his hips are rolling up in a desperate attempt at friction, “I’m calm. Stop looking at me.”

He tries paying attention to his touch instead. The way his hands drag him closer, his legs fold around him to trap him into place. He’s reminded, distinctly, _liars disease_. Repeats it like a mantra as Komaeda rides him.

“I _hate_ you,” He says, and desperation rings heavily on his lips.

And really, “I know- I understand-” Is all he can reply.

_**Kamukura/Komaeda // Orgasm Control** _

“Not yet.”

Kamukura’s order is a whisper in his ear, as blank and monotonous as ever. But he feels the way the mans eyes study him, watching every twitch and every attempt at pleasure. 

“Kamukura _-sama_ ,” He calls out, with some amount of desperation. Because sometimes Kamukura just wants to hear him beg. He just wants him to work for it, earn it. And Servant always likes the inherent challenge of swaying his master “ _Please_ ,”

“No,” His words are a mix of stability and torture. So sure of their intent, however teasing or testing they might be. It’s incredibly easy to focus on; to fall into the euphoria of following an order. It’s as though his body works for him, stopping himself, because he knows better

Kamukura closes his eyes, “Give me more,” He almost sounds desperate, “Not yet.”

Servant could practically sob, despite this. He’d been so close to release, so close to coming. Kamukura does not help him today. Sometimes he’ll grip at the base of his cock with enough force to stop him from misbehaving, to guide him when he knows how out of it he is. To draw him back in. Other times, however, he’ll simply expect him to follow orders. Watch with distinct expectation, taking each and every one of Servants forlorn twitches in with a critical and waiting eye. It’s something that could burn him, if he gazes long enough.

The latter seems to be the case today.

Servant returns the favor by griping at his hair, pawing desperately at his suit jacket, giving him any sign and show of his attempt at behavior. He grips so hard his knuckles might as well turn white, though he’s sure it’s laughably weak for someone like Kamukura. His hips rock up, into him, careless, and he hides his face into the crook of Kamukura’s neck.

Servant falls so close to the edge, and Kamukura is there to catch him. 

_**Komaeda/Hinata // Choking** _

He offers the idea to Hinata silently, through gesture and and action alone. Physically moves his hands up to his neck, “Please,” He says, rocking his hips up to encourage him, “More.”

Perhaps it’s not proper. Perhaps the concern that crosses Hinata’s face is warranted. But it’s hardly the most extreme thing they’ve done together on an impulse, even discounting their time as Servant and Kamukura. And Hinata- Well. He’s always been good at reading him. He’s always been good at _knowing_. 

He knows he has him swayed when curiosity invades concern, and curiosity glints in his eyes. The hands grip tighter around his neck, ruthless and calculate, and pins him down to the mattress with a single palm.

“If you pass out,” Hinata tells him, with a monotone certainty that he cannot argue against. The order of a master he’d never forget, “We won’t do this again.”

Hinata is too cruel to him sometimes, expecting such standards from him. As though he’s not fucking someone so debase, to enjoy the mere idea of that. Komaeda will comply. He trusts the man to _know_ , even if he does not. 

(Know what, is uncertain. His limits, his feelings, his wants. Anything, _anything_.)

He wonders if Hinata knows the exhilaration he feels at being denied breath. If he knows he’s imagining the man denying him life. He thinks he might. That he’s indulging him in something that should be forbidden.

Komaeda doesn’t think he can be anymore grateful. Hinata grips harder, and his head is light. 

He only taps for release when black begins to take over the majority of his vision, and he can’t follow with the rhythm Hinata sets anymore. When the curiosity has fallen from Hinata’s gaze, like he wants to let go, but wants to trust him to know his own limits. When he absolutely must, to please both of them.

“ _I love you_ , _thank you,_ ” He tells Hinata, immediately and choked, and tangles his arms around his shoulders. Because he does.

**Author's Note:**

> These are just the various warmup requests I do at my nsfw blog, Mystxxxmomo. And more often then not, I ask for. Because I gotta stop spamming ao3 with multiple different fics that are only like 500 words long when I can just do this instead.


End file.
